Blue Moon Demon
by CoffeeManiac
Summary: In an adventure spanning nearly fifteen years, the boys, Bobby and Castiel must confront a monster created by God who has set its sights on Sam. **Not slash** Story is complete. Updates will be posted about every two days. Reviews are welcome.
1. Chapter 1

Blue Moon Demon

By: Coffeemaniac

This story is an adventure that spans from pre-series and into Season 7. It's liberally dosed with Bobby Singer, and includes appearances by John Winchester, Crowley and Gabriel (aka the Trickster, aka the Archangel)

Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

1996: Dean is seventeen, Sam is 13

July 31, 1996

Dean darted awake in the upstairs room that he shared with Sam. His single bed with a sheet and warm blanket snuggled around him. The familiar pillow cradled under his head. He didn't want to be awake. He wanted to sleep longer safe and dreaming in Bobby Singer's house.

He probably would have slept until his father woke him for a mid-morning breakfast. But, instead, angry voices and slamming doors startled him into sitting up. He looked towards his brother's bed, startled again to find Sam missing.

He pushed the covers back and settled flat footed on the warm wood floor. He wished that he had worn pajama bottoms to bed instead of just boxers because he had to stop and dress before investigating further. He pulled on the jeans from the day before and padded out of the room and into the hall. Shirtless and barefoot, he scratched his chest as he listened to the distant yelling that still disturbed the morning.

Once he crossed the threshold into the hall, the voices grew loud and distinct. His father's voice mixed with Bobby's as they tangled up words and curses.

Dean didn't know what they were arguing about but he had never heard them fight like that before. He knew they disagreed regularly, and his Dad almost never gave in or admitted when he was wrong. In the past, Dean had seen Bobby change the subject or offer words to placate without actually agreeing, or sometimes he'd just walk away and let the matter drop. The fight he was listening to showed none of those likelihoods. The two men were snarling and shouting at each other like starving wolves battling over meat.

Dean crept down the stairs wondering where Sam was, and hoping his brother wasn't involved in the disagreement.

When he reached the bottom step, Dean sat down to listen. He hadn't wanted to get in the middle of whatever was going on until he understood what he was dealing with.

"John Winchester, you miserable son of a bitch," Bobby said. "Maybe you should've never have started coming here then."

"I saw what you were doing," John said. "With my children in the house. Have you lost your mind?"

"You don't know what you saw."

"The hell I don't. You do what you want, but not when my boys are here."

"The boys are fine."

"Only because I stopped you. If you'd kept going…"

"What? What do you think I would've let happen? You think this is my first demon hunt? You think I can't handle it?"

"Summoning a demon? No, I don't think you can handle it. It'll kill you and then it'll come after us. What were you thinking?"

"That it's my house," Bobby said. Dean thought his voice sounded like thunder and he was getting scared at where the fight might lead.

"You call me reckless and you pull a stunt like that?" John said.

"Hey, you don't trust me then I don't need you here."

John's voice lowered. "He was standing right behind you. He could've been killed."

Dean perked up at that revelation. Who could've been killed? And where was Sam?

"Don't be so dramatic," Bobby said. His voice had gone down too and it was starting to sound like the two men might be calming down. "I was ready. It's not my fault you decided to drop in out of nowhere on the one night that I need to do this. Had to be last night, the second full moon of the month or else I'd have to wait another three years."

"So, you needed a blue moon but you should've just told me about it. I could've taken the boys someplace else. I could've helped."

"I didn't want your help. It was all under control until you…"

"Under control? Under control?" John said. The anger flared back up. "His hand is burned. You nearly wiped out the cellar. If I hadn't been there, you'd both be…"

"Dead? You really think I would let anything happen to that boy?"

"You did let something happen. You brought it here."

"That's it, I'm done. I have cared for those boys when you couldn't or wouldn't. I have sheltered all of you when you needed it. I've done my part. You don't trust my knowledge or my ability. You don't trust me to keep those children safe. You can pack up your stuff and get out."

"Dad, I'm all right." Sam's squeaky voice slipped into the air. Dean jumped up from where he had been eavesdropping and went into the kitchen.

"Go get your things, we're leaving," John said to Sam.

"I'm really okay. If I'd just stayed in bed, none of this…"

"He'd probably have burned down the whole house," John said. Dean noted that his father was looking at Bobby.

Dean also noticed that Sam's right hand was bandaged all the way to his wrist.

"Get off my property," Bobby said. Dean had never seen him so angry. The older man was shaking with rage.

"Get your bags, boys. Don't bother getting changed, just get your things and get down here," John said.

Dean and Sam had murmured "yessirs" automatically and then fled up the stairs to get their duffels. Dean stopped long enough to slip on boots but didn't tie them. He threw the rest of his dirty clothes on top of the clean ones in his bag, zipped it up and ran back downstairs with Sam on his heels.

Fear and worry overrode everything else. He loved Bobby and couldn't imagine not being able to go to his house. He wished his father would calm down and apologize. Dean didn't understand what happened but he knew that Bobby would never hurt them.

"What did you do?" Dean said. Fury laced the question he threw at Sam as they reached the bottom step and Sam just shook his head with his top lip trembling and his eyes glassy.

"Boys!" They heard their father's call and ran into the kitchen. John shuffled them out the front door and told them to get in the car.

Dean turned around in the front seat so he could see Bobby. John stopped outside the car door. Bobby lifted the shotgun from where it leaned against the porch railing. He didn't point it in their direction but the threat was there anyway. John shook his head and climbed into the driver's seat without another word.


	2. Chapter 2

Blue Moon Demon

By: Coffeemaniac

This story is an adventure that spans from pre-series and into Season 7. It's liberally dosed with Bobby Singer, and includes appearances by John Winchester, Crowley and Gabriel (aka the Trickster, aka the Archangel)

Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

Posting two parts today because Part 2 is super short. Thank you for the reviews. Looking forward to hearing more of your thoughts.

PART 2

March 31, 1999

Bobby Singer stood alone at the edge of his property line. He read the incantation, tossed a few herbs into the mini Hibachi, read some more and threw in the lighted match. A moment later the Hibachi sizzled with white light. Bobby jumped back when something popped with the force of a shotgun. The Hibachi made a whooshing noise then cracked down one side with a loud rip in the metal.

Bobby felt the heat on his arm before he realized that some of the sparks had escaped. He dropped to his knees and rubbed his burning flannel sleeve in the dirt. When he looked back up at the fire, another explosion sent shrapnel whizzing at him. He flinched but didn't have time to duck and a piece of metal cut a long slice through the skin of his shoulder.

Bobby cursed then gasped when a shadow emerged from the flames. Man-sized, it looked like the burning ash that was left inside the small grill had formed into a human shape. Without any facial features or definition, Bobby didn't know if the spell worked, or if he had unleashed something else.

The ashy creature moved across the plastic tarp, the dirt beneath swirling out from the edges with each thump of its heavy footsteps. As it approached, Bobby noticed red gleaming from the space that should have been a face and he decided he was seeing its eyes. It stopped at the edge of the Devil's Trap painted on the tarp.

When words suddenly pressed into Bobby's mind he tried to push them out. It felt like his brain was being flooded with electrical jolts. Bobby yelled out and flattened his hands against his ears. But, it didn't help. The thing wasn't speaking; it was penetrating his mind like a jabbing knife.

"No," Bobby said. "Just…just listen. I'm not trying to hurt you. I just want to talk."

The creature pushed harder into his brain and Bobby fell forward, holding his head in his hands.

"I just need…"

Bobby gasped when something cold and thick rained over his head. A burning jolt of fire flashed through his brain and he cried out. The splat that followed hit him in the face like warm blood after a kill and Bobby covered his head with both hands.

It took a moment to focus as he felt a hand on the back of his jacket pulling on him to stand up. He managed to get to his feet before he staggered back a step and recognized Rufus holding a bucket and glaring daggers at him.

"Goddammit, have you lost your mind?" Rufus said. He flailed his arms as he yelled.

"What did you do?" Bobby said. Anger helped to clear the fog out of his brain.

"I saved your ass. What were you thinking summoning that thing?"

"Nobody asked you to get involved."

"Maybe not but it's a good thing I did or you'd be looking like that right now." Rufus pointed towards a pile of wet ash. Despite being drenched smoke still billowed from the pile.

"I could've got it to talk if you'd just given me a damn minute."

"Demons like that don't talk, Robert," Rufus said. He sounded glib as he took a few steps towards the house. Bobby swore as he followed and Rufus spun around, angry again. "Do you have any idea how much holy oil I just used to bring that thing down?"

"It's dripping down my back so you might have overdone it."

"It would've killed you, Bobby. You're playing at something that's bigger than you."

"I'm not playing. And you just screwed me up for another three years. So, excuse me if I'm not full of gratitude at you jumping into the middle of something uninvited."

"Oh, and excuse me for saving your life. Again."

"Again, my ass."

"What if it'd got away from you? It didn't exactly look like it was on the ropes there. You got any idea how much damage…"

"Don't be a damn fool, Rufus, I took precautions. There's warding all over the place. You think I don't know how to…"

"I think you're overconfident," Rufus said. "And that kind of thing will get you killed."

Bobby huffed, his anger draining away with the adrenaline. He knew the demon had attacked his mind and he knew there was a better than even chance it would have killed him if Rufus hadn't arrived. But, that didn't mean he was wrong or that summoning it wasn't necessary. He'd never convince his old partner so he didn't try.

"All right," Bobby said. "You win. Can't try again if I wanted to. You coming in?"

"You got whiskey?"

"Yep."

"Johnny Walker?"

"Nope."

"Guess I'll have to settle then."

"Don't do me any favors."

Bobby passed Rufus as they walked to the house, ears still ringing from the demon's attack, his shoulder aching from the slash of metal when the grill exploded. Angry at Rufus but knowing it was over, he led the way into the kitchen, pulled out the booze and two glasses.


	3. Chapter 3

Blue Moon Demon

By: Coffeemaniac

This story is an adventure that spans from pre-series and into Season 7. It's liberally dosed with Bobby Singer, and includes appearances by John Winchester, Crowley and Gabriel (aka the Trickster, aka the Archangel)

Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

PART 3

***Set between Abandon All Hope and Sam, Interrupted.***

 **December 27, 2009**

Sam rolled over wondering what the world be like if he didn't have the floor in Bobby's foyer to sleep on. With the Apocalypse looming and both he and Dean on the block for being angel costumes, he might lose that tiny bit of comfort. He rubbed his eyes wishing doomsday didn't follow his every thought.

Sitting up he glanced towards the couch and found Dean's crumpled blanket but no brother in sight. He pulled himself up, stretched, yawned and padded towards the bathroom. The silent house suggested Dean had gone out. Sam guessed Bobby still slept.

The South Dakota winter hung brutally around them outside. When Sam went to bed the little temperature gauge sitting outside the front door read minus 6 degrees. The weather prediction called for a high of 12 with no snow expected, just cold and wind, and that made him wonder why Dean needed to venture someplace.

When he came out of the bathroom he heard the squeak of Bobby's wheelchair so he headed for the kitchen. Bobby struggled with mornings since he lost the use of his legs but he made it clear he didn't want any help. Sam figured the best thing was to give him privacy and stay out of the way.

Sam stopped in the doorway when he saw Dean sitting at the kitchen table with both of his hands wrapped around a coffee mug.

Dean may have begun to forgive, or maybe just accept, that Sam ingested demon blood and released Lucifer from Hell. But, with the added horror that the two of them were chosen vessels for Lucifer and Michael, he barely managed civility.

Sam wrestled with fear too but Dean exhibited all the signs of depression. The bleakness of their situation had spiraled him into a black hole leaving nothing but negativity and a surly disposition.

Sam wished he'd headed for the cellar or the front porch rather than the kitchen.

Two days earlier, the three of them had spent a sullen Christmas searching for ways to stop the Apocalypse. The only nod made to the holiday was a ham that Bobby baked with some glaze he prepared from scratch and two bottles of aged Scotch that Dean had stashed in the panic room at some point.

They had toasted Ellen and Jo which only served to depress the three of them so they ended Christmas drunk, and hiding from each other in separate corners of the house.

As Sam passed his brother on the way to the coffee maker, he wished Dean a good morning. He grabbed a blue mug and filled it up before sitting down across from his brother. Dean hadn't spoken yet so Sam decided to let him have his thoughts. After a few minutes of silence, Sam got up, warmed both of their cups then rummaged through the refrigerator pulling out the ham leftovers, a chunk of cheddar cheese and a container of eggs.

He couldn't make Dean happier, he couldn't give Bobby back his legs, but he could scramble eggs with fried ham and cheese.

While he stirred the chopped ham with a wooden spoon, Castiel popped into the kitchen. Sam didn't jump. He wondered if he was beyond being surprised anymore. Dean looked at the angel.

"Cas," Dean said sounding almost life-like for the first time since they finished the bottle of Scotch on Christmas night.

"Dean, I bring news," Cas said.

"Want some eggs?" Sam offered, knowing the angel didn't eat.

"No. Thank you."

"What's the word then?" Dean asked.

Cas looked at Dean like a puppy wondering why its ball has been tossed across the room. Sam smiled.

"He means, what news are you bringing?"

"Oh, well, it's nothing good."

"Shocker," Dean said.

"After the decimation of Carthage, the angels are talking about a significant increase in demon activity. It is believed that other cities like the one in Missouri are in similar danger."

"They killed everyone," Sam said softly, feeling grief stab through him as Ellen and Jo flashed in his mind.

The sound of Bobby's wheelchair broke into Sam's grim memory. He turned from the stove to greet him when the air, howling and spinning like a wind tunnel, suddenly overtook Bobby's kitchen. The impossibility slammed into Sam almost as strong as the gust that lifted him off his feet. Twisting inside a great tornado vapor, limbs flailing, Sam screamed in panic. He might have called for Dean or maybe it was mindless noise but a moment later he rolled across a rocky floor scraping legs and arms and torso until he landed in a battered heap against a stone wall.

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Dean heard the wind pick up. He looked towards the kitchen door thinking it must have blown open even as he thought the air wasn't cold enough to be coming from outside. Like background noise he could hear voices but nothing made sense because the door sat securely latched into place like the kitchen window above the sink. And the air wasn't cold enough. And there was a weird pressure through his chest as he spun towards Sam.

The empty space at the stove gave way to all the noise, the clattering as chairs fell over, the shaking of the glass inside the window panes and the cursing from Bobby whose wheelchair was slowly spinning as it ignored physics while it creaked along on one wheel. Another instant found Castiel stopping Bobby from tipping over and setting the chair back on the floor.

Dean took another turn around the kitchen searching for Sam who wasn't there anymore. But there was no hole in the walls or ceiling, no broken glass or open door. He just wasn't there.

"Cas?" Dean said, feeling fear snake from his belly to his legs.

"I don't know," the angel said as he took a turn searching the room with his eyes.

"Where's Sam?" Bobby said.

"He's no longer near," Castiel answered. "I cannot sense his presence."

"In the house," Dean tried to specify.

"Anywhere."

"What?" Dean demanded.

"It makes sense, Dean. He's not here and he is warded from my sight by the sigils. I can't find him because he is protected from the angels.

"But, what does that mean? I mean, we have to be able to find him." Dean stopped. He focused his panic. "Okay, what just happened? Someone, someone took him, right? Someone came in here and took him."

Castiel moved through the kitchen towards the stove. He moved the pan that Sam had been using to cook eggs and put it in the sink.

"Cas," Bobby's voice was tight and angry. "Who took Sam?"

"One moment. Please."

Castiel knelt in front of the stove, placing his hands on the front of the oven then moving up slowly. When he stopped he turned around.

"This is bad," he said.

"What's bad?" Dean asked, as fear sent a cold sweat across his body.

"Angels. There were angels here. They took him."

Dean shook his head, rejecting the words. "No. We're protected. You marked our ribs so this wouldn't happen."

"I know," Castiel said. "I do not believe they defeated the sigils."

"Then how?"

The angel hung his head for a moment. When he looked up his eyes were narrowed. "I believe they followed me."

"Followed you? How could you let that happen?"

"I wanted to tell you about Crowley. I was…careless."

Dean stomped over, rage overwhelming common sense. He grabbed the lapels of Castiel's coat and yanked him forward. "How could you…"

"Dean. Dean!" Bobby's voice barely registered. But, when the older man rammed his wheelchair into Dean's leg the pain broke through.

"Ow, damn it, Bobby."

"Get off him."

Dean let go of Castiel and paced away from him.

"Where's Sam?" Dean yelled.

"I don't know," Castiel answered angrily. "The angels will have him well hidden."

"Why would the angels want Sam?" Bobby said. "It's Lucifer who wants him for a ride."

Castiel shook his head. "I don't know…unless…"

"Unless they want him to say yes to Lucifer," Dean said.

"Why would…what would that accomplish?" Bobby asked.

"Most angels believe the Apocalypse is the will of God. Sam must say yes to Lucifer just as much as Dean must say yes to Michael. Zachariah has, so far, failed to convince Dean of his destiny so…"

"They're trying to jump start the other team," Bobby finished.

"Sam won't say 'yes'," Dean said.

Dean knew Sam was committed to preventing the Apocalypse. Since killing Lilith and putting the whole thing in motion, Sam's guilt alone would stop him. Dean might have pangs of doubt. He might wonder if the whole thing really was fated and there was no way to derail it but Sam remained confident. Sam fully believed that as long as both of them refused to say "yes" then they could end the battle before it started.

"He won't say yes," Dean repeated.

"Whoever has him will likely apply pressure to secure his agreement. It is imperative that we find him as quickly as possible."

Dean filled his lungs to fight off the surge of fear that Castiel's words brought. If he stopped to think too much about Sam being hurt then he wouldn't be able to function.

"Okay. How?" Dean asked.

"First, we must determine which angel. I will attempt to ascertain that information. I suggest that you check the warding on the house."

"Start with Zachariah."

"I agree that he is a likely candidate. However, to my knowledge he remains assigned to you and Michael. Also, I'm bothered by the fact that I did not sense the attack prior to its occurrence. That sort of deception usually requires the power of an archangel."

"Michael?"

"Perhaps."

"Could it be Lucifer himself?" Bobby said.

Castiel didn't respond but Dean saw the worry in his face as he disappeared from the room.

Dean looked at Bobby who huffed before turning his wheelchair and rolling into the study. While Bobby started the research, Dean set his attention on the sigils and symbols set up around the house. He searched the kitchen first then worked his way around through the rest of the rooms. He took his time to do it right. They couldn't risk another breach. He forced himself to concentrate on the task knowing that worrying about where Sam was, or what was happening to him, wouldn't find him any faster.

When he finished the upstairs, Dean joined Bobby in the study where the older man had a large, dusty tome opened on the desk.

"What are you looking for?" Dean asked as he sat in the chair across from him.

"Trying to match up the grab with a similar M.O. We've seen enough angels lately that we know how they appear and disappear. We've heard the flap of wings. The tornado that swept up Sam wasn't like anything we've seen from them before."

"Find anything?"

"Sorry, no. Not yet. Just getting started though."

"What can I do?"

"Grab that book there. The blue one underneath that one that feels like flesh. And start reading."

"I think I should be out there looking. Shaking the bushes."

"And talk to who exactly? Demons and vampires and the rest of the monster band ain't going to know nothing about the business of angels."

"I could pray to Michael."

"Yeah and if he's the one who took Sam, then what? You going to say "yes"?"

"No, of course not, I just…"

"Listen, son, you're scared. So am I. But, we have to be smart."

"What if it's not the angels? Maybe this Crowley character got the jump on us."

"A crossroads demon getting around salt, devil's traps, holy water and everything else? Not likely. No, I think we should trust Cas on this and start with the angels."

Dean rubbed his face then picked up the blue book that Bobby had directed him to. It didn't feel right not to be outside searching through every bush, tree, warehouse and tenement. Doing research worked great when they were preparing for a case, but they had been slammed into the middle of one. Looking through books felt like "way too little, way too late."

"I can't do this," he said after a few minutes. He put the book on top of the stack. "You keep looking. I'm going out."

"Where to?" Bobby sounded frustrated.

"We know angels. I'll drive a couple of towns over and pray. Maybe I can get Anna to answer. If she won't, maybe Gabriel will."

"The Trickster."

"The archangel. He may not like that Sam and I are fighting the Apocalypse, but he's not completely hostile towards us either."

"He wants you and Sam to be party favors, son. He's not on your side. Hell, he might be behind this."

Dean felt a surge of anger as he thrust himself on to his feet. "You know what? I don't care. If he's behind it, or Anna, and Zachariah, or some piss-ant second rate cherub then maybe they'll take me to Sam. Right now, that's all I care about."

"All right, all right. I hear you. Go. Do what you have to do. But, do me a favor. Try not to be stupid about it."

Dean nodded, feeling a little embarrassed about losing his temper with Bobby. He grabbed his sweatshirt and jacket off the back of the kitchen chair, and headed out to brave the freezing winter. 


	4. Chapter 4

Blue Moon Demon

By: Coffeemaniac

This story is an adventure that spans from pre-series and into Season 7. It's liberally dosed with Bobby Singer, and includes appearances by John Winchester, Crowley and Gabriel (aka the Trickster, aka the Archangel)

Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

PART 4

Sam sighed as he stood up. He needed to stretch his legs and thaw out after sitting on the stone floor for so long. He rubbed his arms as he looked around for some way out of the cave. He had already searched several times but hadn't found anything but solid rock.

The cave smelled damp. A thin sheen of condensation covered the walls. The water hadn't turned to ice but the cold tortured his sock covered feet. With nothing but blue jeans and the thin, long-sleeved t-shirt he had worn to bed, he was freezing.

He remembered cooking eggs and Castiel appearing in the kitchen. Then Sam's head had been overwhelmed by the sound of rushing air and he found himself flung into this cave alone.

His first instinct had been to search for Dean but in the single enclosed cavern, he remained alone.

He remembered a college friend who had been obsessed with the game The Sims. He had gotten a perverse thrill from creating characters, making them as successful as possible then building walls all around them so the animated character couldn't escape. Eventually without food and entertainment, and whatever else sustained it, the character would die. His friend loved to watch the cartoon grim reaper float in to the collect the deceased.

Sam was starting to feel like he might become a dead Sim. He couldn't dig through stone and there was nothing to climb. He didn't have any weapons or tools. He didn't have any water or food either. While the temperature hovered above freezing, he was still shivering. He doubted his body would fight the cold for long.

He continually walked around the cave, trying to generate warmth while looking for escape. He couldn't think of anything else to do.

His feet ached. It felt like a rod was being shoved into the bone. He wondered fleetingly if a person could get frostbite in above freezing temperatures.

"Hello, Sam." The familiar voice, soft and throaty, startled him. He whipped around and she smiled at him.

Her petite body looked exactly the same. Brown hair hung around her shoulders. Her brown eyes shined in the dim light. For just a moment Sam realized that light illuminated the cave and wondered how that was possible. But, the thought slipped through his mind at the sight of her.

He remembered how soft and warm she felt.

"Ruby." He took an involuntary step forward before his brain caught up to events.

"Miss me?" She said.

"You're dead. We killed you."

"Yes, you did. I always knew your brother would shove that knife in me some day. I just didn't think you'd hold me for him."

"Am I dead?" He said. He neglected to consider that before.

"No." She smiled in a way that made Sam remember he cared for her once. Sort of.

"I died," she said. "I went away for a while and then I came back."

"What do you want?"

"There're lots of things I want, Sam but right now, well, there's only one important thing. I want you to step up and do your job. You made it possible for him to rise and now you need to accept him so this whole thing can be finished."

"I'm not saying 'yes'."

She sighed as she walked around the edge of the cave. She wore black jeans that hugged her hips and knee high black boots. A black muscle tee covered a pink one but neither kept her breasts from swelling above the shirts.

She pushed her hair off her shoulders and snapped her fingers. A fire pit appeared in the cave. Warm and crackling inside a stone circle, Sam was drawn to it. He shivered as the heat touched his skin.

"That's new," he said as he held his hands out near the flame. "I've never seen a demon make something out of nothing."

She smiled at him again with a coy tilt of her head.

"Which reminds me," he said. "How'd you get past all our precautions? For that matter, how'd you find us?"

"I could always find you, Sam. Your need for me was like a homing beacon."

He shook his head. "No. I haven't thought about you in a long time."

She laughed. "You're a liar."

"So, what is this? You're going to keep me here until I agree to give Lucifer a ride?"

"Something like that."

"I thought he couldn't coerce me into it. I have to accept him voluntarily."

"Well, that's only kind of true. He can try to convince you as long as in the end you willingly agree. But, he's not here and this isn't his party anyway. This is me telling you that you need to finish what you started."

It was Sam's turn to laugh. "You can't trick me anymore."

She moved closer to him. His body tensed at her proximity. But, she just brushed a hand over his arm as she walked around him.

She snapped her fingers and the fire disappeared.

"I don't have to trick you."

Ruby looked at him from top to bottom with a mischievous smile. She leaned into his space and put her head against his chest. Sam shoved her away, repulsed to have her so close.

"There's nothing you can do that'll make me say 'yes'."

Her eyes narrowed and she pushed her shoulders back. "We're through dancing around your foolish stubbornness. You can stay in this cave, freezing and starving until you finally die. Then I'll bring you back to life and start over. Or you can just agree to live up to your obligation."

Sam's stomach clenched at her threat. He didn't know if she was powerful enough to bring him back from the dead but she was definitely revved up since the last time.

"That sounds kind of time consuming," Sam said.

"Oh, Sam, I know better. You'll give in because that's what you do. How many times did I convince you to do things that you never thought you would? When the going gets tough you just fall right in line, don't you?"

She turned towards him pressing her body forward letting him feel the heat of her. She reached up to touch his face. He jerked away, stepping backward.

"That's not going to work."

"We'll see," she said as she smiled again.

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Dean wandered around the hotel parking lot praying to Gabriel and feeling like an idiot. Desperate times and all that, but this was the archangel who murdered him repeatedly just to make Sam experience being alone. This was the same angel who threw them into an endless loop of television spoofs in order to convince them to accept their roles in the Apocalypse.

Dean spent the first two days after Sam disappeared, hunting down demons. He figured if Lucifer co-opted an angel to breach Bobby's house then a demon would know about it. He tortured three different demons and killed half a dozen more with Ruby's knife but no one knew anything. Dean believed them. He knew his skills well enough to know they would have talked.

With zero options left, Dean spent an hour pacing around asking Gabriel to appear. He didn't know what else to do. Castiel failed to return with any information. Sam was still missing. Dean worried about what might be happening to him, and he worried that Sam would surrender to Lucifer.

He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and cursed as he turned to go into the motel room. He pushed open the door. The aroma of roasting turkey met him. Then he saw his bed missing and a long wooden table in its place. The small single room dwarfed by the massive piece of furniture. Covered from end to end with a full Thanksgiving dinner complete with turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole and sweet potatoes, the meal tugged at a memory that Dean never had.

Gabriel sat in a medieval looking high-backed chair holding a turkey leg. He nudged it towards Dean as if offering a toast. Dean flipped the door closed then leaned against it crossing his arms.

"Praying for a visit, huh, Dean? Not worried I want drop you into an episode of Cagney and Lacey?"

"I figure you're not the type to play the same game twice. Well, other than killing me a hundred times."

"True. But, I was creative about it."

"I'm sure I would've appreciated that if I remembered. I'm pretty sure Sam was unimpressed."

The stocky blond angel smiled. "Oh, well, Sammy has trouble with the big picture. Now, why is it that you're looking for me?"

Dean moved towards the dinner table. He grabbed a roll and tore a piece off. As he stuffed it into his mouth he surveyed the tremendous meal.

"No pie?" he said.

Gabriel cocked his head. "You have to eat your vegetables first."

Dean swallowed the roll. "Okay, look, Sam is missing. An angel zapped him someplace and we can't find him. Was it you?"

Gabriel scowled. "What would I want with your brother?"

"You were pretty hell bent to get us to play our parts."

"I want both of you to take your medicine. It doesn't help anyone to have Sam wearing a Lucifer suit if you're not wearing Michael."

"Can you find out who has him?"

"What's your boyfriend doing? Don't tell me that you and Castiel broke up."

Dean looked away for a moment, annoyed at having his friendship with Cas described in those terms.

"He's looking but he's cut off from heaven," Dean said. "Makes access limited."

Gabriel frowned as he set the turkey leg down. "Hmm, that's so sad."

Dean dropped the last bite of roll and stood up straighter. "Can you help or not?"

"Oh, Dean." Gabriel stood up brushing imaginary crumbs off his yellow cargo pants. "Why would I help you? The Winchesters are nothing but a pain in the ass to everyone. You won't even do the one thing you were put on earth to do."

"Because you owe us. And because your family is using my brother as a pawn. You can't think that's right."

"Right? Right? What's right about any of this? And I don't owe you jack squat, boy."

"We let you out of that holy oil."

"You put me in it," Gabriel yelled. In a puff the Thanksgiving feast and the furniture to match disappeared. Dean's bed made a triumphant return.

"Wait," Dean said, hearing the desperation in his voice. "Don't go. Just, please, help me out here. Help me find Sam."

Gabriel huffed. He turned his back to Dean then spun towards him. He held up his index finger as if he was going to make a point then squeezed his hand into a fist.

Through gritted teeth he said, "This is what I know. Sam wasn't taken by the angels. This is a demon deal."

"How could demons find us? How could they get through…?"

"Oh, please, like everyone doesn't know you hold up at Bobby Singer's. As far as getting through your protections, well, I don't know about that. But, this is not the work of angels."

"Lucifer?"

"Is an angel. Try to keep up, Dean."

"How do you know that its demons?"

"There's been a little chatter from the Hell party line. There's a very special demon missing from the depths."

"Who? Meg?"

Gabriel shook his head. "Sam's main squeeze. Ruby."

"Ruby? But, she's…"

"Apparently not. And I'll tell you something else. She's not working alone. She doesn't have the juice."

"Lilith?" Dean asked, dreading the answer.

Gabriel shrugged. "She's dead, like really dead, as far as I know. But, I don't exactly have a hotline to the hot side, you know what I'm saying?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't understand you. I've been praying to you for answers and then you give me a song and dance refusing to help, and then you decide to tell me. What is it with you?"

"Can't have you taking me for granted, can I? Bye, Dean. Don't pray to me again. Next time I'll just send Zachariah in my place."

With a flutter of wings, Gabriel disappeared. Dean sighed as he sat on the bed. He felt his breath shorten at the thought of Ruby being back with Sam. What if she's feeding him demon blood again?

Dean slipped his cell phone out and phoned Castiel. He barely told him the name of the city and the hotel before another flutter of wings dropped the angel in front of him.

"We have to go," Cas said. Before Dean could respond Cas touched his forehead and then Dean found himself standing on the shoulder of a freeway.

"What the hell, Cas?"

"Zachariah or one of his garrison picked up on your prayer to Gabriel. You should not be praying to angels, Dean. It's dangerous."

Dean nodded. "Okay, no more praying but, I did get a lead. Gabriel says that Ruby is alive and she took Sam. He says she's got some powerful help but he doesn't know who."

"Does he know where she took him?"

Dean shook his head.

"How does he know the rest?"

"Link to heaven, I guess. He wasn't exactly itching to play twenty questions with me."

"This is very bad news, Dean. If Ruby took Sam she could be trying to turn him with demon blood. He could become addicted again and he could say 'yes'."

"I know that which is why we have to figure out where they are. I mean there's got to be a sign or something that we can follow. Her kind of voodoo is going to leave a mark someplace. Right?"

Castiel walked a few steps away and sighed. With his back to Dean, he said, "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Dean asked, in disbelief.

Cas turned around. "The important thing is we have a lead. If there are demons involved then we can follow that."

"I've already questioned a few and they didn't know anything. Who has the power to bring Ruby back, break into Bobby's and take Sam without leaving a trace behind? The list can't be that long."

"No, I agree. It isn't Zachariah. He would not work with demons. It isn't Lucifer. He cannot coerce Sam's agreement. However, it may be someone working on Lucifer's behalf."

"What about the crossroads demon?"

"You mean Crowley? He doesn't have the power to do what's been done." Castiel seemed to think for a moment then he pointed at Dean. "You know, there may be someone. A demon who is rumored to be Lucifer's second in command. There are some who believe that he may even have been an angel at one time. But, he has not been heard from in millennia. Some believe he never really existed at all."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense here. Who is it?"

"Have you heard of Belial?"

"That's another name for Satan, isn't it?"

"No. He's been mistaken for Lucifer because he is often considered to be the opposite of good but he is, in fact, his own being. I will admit there's some ambiguity regarding his origin, but there's evidence he was an angel that my Father imbued with the quality of a demon in order to perform darker tasks."

"Darker? Well, that's just peachy. Why are you thinking that it's him?"

"If he is both an angel and a demon then he could have defeated the sigils in order to steal Sam. He could be working for the benefit of Lucifer even if Lucifer is unaware of it."

"And bringing back Ruby would have been pretty simple too."

"Simple? No. But, possible," Castiel said.

"So, how do we get to Belial?"

The look on Castiel's face spoke louder than a verbal answer. The angel didn't think they'd be able to summon or reach Belial.


	5. Chapter 5

Blue Moon Demon

By: Coffeemaniac

This story is an adventure that spans from pre-series and into Season 7. It's liberally dosed with Bobby Singer, and includes appearances by John Winchester, Crowley and Gabriel (aka the Trickster, aka the Archangel)

Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

PART 5

December 31, 2009

Bobby purchased a new grill just for the night of the blue moon. Heavy duty and expensive, he hoped it wouldn't burn up like the last one. He added a few more protection sigils too. Bobby could admit now that when Rufus interfered almost three years before, he'd been in trouble.

He considered not trying this time. With Sam missing, he felt guilty about splitting his attention. But, he'd have to wait another three years if he skipped it. Who knew if he'd even be alive then? He knew he'd done everything he could for Sam and Dean so he decided to perform the summoning again and maybe, put this one issue to rest.

As Bobby prepared he imagined how the night would be playing out for the rest of the world. It was New Year's Eve. Partying at a festival, drinking and dancing, getting ready for 2010 likely occupied most the population.

He over-layered his clothing against the minus eight degree night. He used a knit cap instead of his usual ball cap to keep some heat in his skull. He parked his wheelchair near the grill then Bobby put the herbs together, rolled backwards a few feet and started the incantation. He spoke the words precisely as he performed the spell. When a flash of fire sprang from the grill, he forced himself to stay still and flinch away. But, unlike the other times, that solitary flame was the only testament to the spell. Nothing popped and no creepy ash-man appeared. The grill didn't glow or crack.

Bobby reviewed each step in his head thinking he must have forgotten something. But he could account for every ingredient and every word spoken. He cursed as he stirred up the grill hoping to get something started but it remained stubbornly inactive. Thinking he must have done something wrong, Bobby dumped the contents on the ground, dumped a bucket of sand over it for safety and started the procedure again. He was especially careful but he didn't even summon a flame this time. As the clock turned from 2009 to 2010, Bobby stared at his failure and spoke to his dead wife.

"I'm sorry, Karen. I don't know what happened, honey. I just don't know."

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Sam shivered. He pulled his feet in closer to his body trying to retain some kind of warmth. Peripherally he knew that shivering meant that his body was still working to generate heat but the shakes had grown painful some time ago.

Without shoes, walking around the cave to keep his heart beating and blood generating quickly lost its appeal. He knew he needed to do it but that didn't mean he wanted to.

Ruby had kept her promise. She provided no food or water, no comforts or any kind. The freezing rock, the hard packed ground and the endless circling weighed on him. He couldn't judge time but he ached with weakened muscles. His barren throat tormented him. Although he had lost interest in food, the hunger had morphed into stomach cramps.

"Come on, Sam, don't be like that," Ruby said. "You know you started to care about me. It was perfect there for a while."

Ruby remained with him. Sometimes she cajoled him or tried to convince him to say "yes" to Lucifer. Sometimes she tried to comfort him without actually making anything better. Sometimes she reminisced about their time together as if it was something she missed.

"You were my dealer, not my girlfriend," Sam said, unsure why he was even responding to her. His throat hurt as the words passed over it.

"You say that now but I remember how much you wanted me. All the things we did. All the things I did for you."

Sam sighed and rubbed his arms knowing that it wouldn't help.

"You got what you wanted from me," he said, trying not to think too much about the dusty rasp in his voice. He needed water badly.

He didn't see her move but a moment later she was leaning into him. Her heat felt good against his cold skin. Her breath warmed his neck. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder like a nesting cat.

"I can make you feel good again, Sam. I can make you want me."

Loathe to release the small relief from freezing, Sam closed his eyes, steeling his resolve. He shoved her away and she tumbled. Her eyes flashed black for just a moment before a smile filled her face again.

"You tried to reject me before, remember?" In a sing song voice, she continued. "But, I still convinced you."

Sam shook his head slowly and closed his eyes. He wished she'd go away. All he wanted was some peace until his rescue.

"How about if I give you what you want," Ruby said.

A flash of light filled the cave and then blessed warmth touched Sam's skin as a campfire crackled in front of him. Sam scrambled closer to it, putting his hands and feet near the flame and letting the heat fill him. The relief from freezing overwhelmed him. His body shook and shivered as it drank in the soothing warmth. As he bathed in its glow, he looked over at Ruby, not understanding why she'd give him this. She stood up, pushed her brown hair away from her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest. She smiled slowly and Sam felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.

In a blink the fire disappeared and the relentless cold crashed around him.

"Let me bring it back, Sam. Just give Lucifer his chance and you can be free."

Sam scrambled back to the wall of the cave. He wrapped his arms around himself trying to keep from screaming. He wanted that fire so badly. He slammed his head backward crashing into the stone forcing his mind to focus, to not give in. Even as despair swept through him, he thought about Dean and their pact. He wouldn't, he couldn't give in.

"Go to hell," he muttered at her.

The tinkling sound of her laugh almost undid him but he held firm.

"Oh, Sam, I can make everything better and you'd rather do this? Do you really think your precious brother would want you to die? For this? For something that's going to happen anyway? Come on, Sam, let me bring it back."

Sam tried to ignore her.

"I care about you, Sam. I really do. All those nights we spent together were the closest I've been to feeling human again. You did that for me."

She appeared beside him again. Her body felt like a furnace even though she left inches between them.

"I want to help you. I don't want it to be like this. Any more than you do."

"Then do it. Let me out of here."

She put her hands on his face and twirled circles against his cheeks with just her thumbs.

"Okay, I will. It can be just that simple. Water. So sweet on your throat. Food. Warm and filling. Such simple things that I can give you. A bed with sheets and a soft blanket. And heat, Sam. Wonderful heat. It's all so easy for me. And it's all so easy for you to take."

He leaned into her body, drinking in the inviting warmth of her skin. "I can't," he said.

"Sure you can." Her voice was whisper soft and her breath touched his face. His body remembered every intimate curve of her and he felt himself wanting her.

"I can't," he said again.

"Sam," she whispered. "It'll be all right. Just let yourself say yes."

With a sudden flash of Dean's face breaking through the moment, Sam pushed her away.

"Stay away from me."

She caught her balance as her expression turned dangerous. Her brown eyes darkened to black and she stood up.

"Have it your way."

An instant later she disappeared. She took the light with her, plunging Sam into darkness and cold.

"Wait," he called out to the emptiness, fear ramming through his belly like a knife. He knew he was going to die there. But, he also knew he couldn't accept Lucifer. With a frustrated cry he wrapped his arms tighter around himself and waited for the cold and the thirst to take him.

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Exhaustion finally pushed Dean to close his eyes. He lay on the bed in the dirty motel room and crossed his arms over his stomach. Castiel promised to search for an answer but there was no telling how long it would take. Without any other leads, Dean lay motionless. In a couple of hours, he planned to drive back to South Dakota. He could help Bobby with the research. Maybe he should have done that in the first place.

The last time he saw Sam, his brother had been careful around him, afraid to say the wrong thing, afraid to push Dean further into the abyss of hopelessness. Dean had waited at Bobby's kitchen table like a vulture knowing eventually someone would give him an opening to rail against the situation. It never took much. A careless word, the wrong tone of voice, a useless fact and Dean would have latched on to it and ripped into anyone who dared suggest they might win this battle.

Castiel arrived and gave him his excuse but he hadn't had time to launch into a tirade. A moment later, the kitchen transformed to a cyclone and Sam disappeared. Now, all Dean wanted was to see his brother, to reassure him that they were in this fight together, that Dean would never abandon him. All he wanted was to see Sam in front of him, safe and unhurt.

If Belial, the angel-slash-demon, stole Sam then he must intend to coerce a "yes". Dean knew what Zachariah was capable of, and Raphael had threatened to do worse. Those two were from heaven. Dean knew all too well that Hell's minions were more depraved than any angel of the Lord. He wrapped his arms around his belly as sharp fear shot through him. He needed to find Sam.

Dean sat up thinking he needed to pray to Cas. He didn't want to slow the angel down but he couldn't sit and wait. He couldn't. Then he thought of something else. If Belial is an angel then maybe he followed the same rules as Castiel.

Dean stood up, grabbed his duffle and opened it. He drew the demon knife out and clutched it in one hand. He closed his eyes.

"Belial," he said. "I'm praying for you to…"

Before he finished the sentence, the sound of fluttering wings filled the small room. Dean drew the knife up as he opened his eyes. Standing in front of him with a dark scowl, Gabriel shook his head.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked as he lowered his arm.

"Stopping you from doing something stupid," Gabriel answered.

"Cas thinks he has Sam."

"He does. He's also nearly as powerful as an archangel. You're just going to annoy him, cowboy."

"Do you know where Sam is?"

Gabriel sighed. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

"Then this is the only thing I can do," Dean said.

"No, no, I mean, I'm shaking my head because you two are so pathologically joined at the hip. I do know where Sam is. I just don't know if he can be saved. Belial really wants to help his brother."

Dean spoke carefully, trying to sound reasonable while his insides screamed to take action. "Just tell me where he is. I'll do the rest."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes as he said, "Cas can't get you in. This is definitely archangel territory. A little above your boyfriend's pay grade."

Dean shook his head. "Then what do you want? Are you just here to tell me you can't do anything because…"

"No. I'm telling you to stop your stupid, pointless antics and wait. If I'm alive, I'll be back. If you're lucky, your brother will be with me. If not, well, I guess it's just another sacrifice for the Winchesters, isn't it?"

"Wait, look, I'll go with you. I want to go with you. I can help."

Gabriel barked out a vicious laugh. "Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? I mean, really?"

"Cas said…"

"Belial is a demon created by my Father to handle the uglier aspects of human behavior. He's like the CIA of the Old Testament. Goes in when no one is looking, rips the problem children to shreds and fades back into the shadows like he was never there. He is evil incarnate. He's worse than Lucifer because he was created to be evil. Lucifer fell. Belial never resided in heaven."

"Okay, he's the bastard black sheep that no one talks about. He's the serial killer in the family. I get it. But what you don't get is that I don't care how bad he is."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and in a flutter of wings, disappeared.

"Damn it," Dean cursed as he threw the demon knife on the bed. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolled to Cas. As soon as he heard the angel pick up, he said, "Come to the motel."

A moment later the trench coat wearing angel appeared. His patented placid expression met Dean's worried one.

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The change overtook Sam in an instant. First, he stopped shivering. Then the cramps aching through his body grew from discomfort to intense agony. He screamed out, clenching his arms around himself as he rolled on to his side. Then a momentary stab into his heart and a flash of light filled his brain signaling the end of his life and then nothing.

A simple heartbeat later and breath filled his chest. He gasped, heaving air through liquid lungs. Utter darkness as black as ink and as dense as muddy water wrapped around him again. Cold replaced the nothingness, thirst clawed relentlessly at his throat and the nauseous, empty cavern of his torso tightened sending an excruciating cramp through his body. Sam cried out as he deliberately rapped his head against the cave wall.

He had died. He knew it. And she had brought him back. Not healthy and renewed but back at the jagged edge of death.

Sam blinked at the tears that couldn't fall because there was no moisture in him. Despair crashed over him like a waterfall against the rocks below. He curled up as tight as he could, not because he thought he could escape the cold or the pain in his belly and throat, but because fear raged at him, stark terror at the idea of dying only to be revived to the moment of death.

"Please," he croaked, more air than sound.

When warmth touched his arm he leaned towards it trying to absorb any comfort that he could.

"Are you ready, Sam?" Ruby whispered. "I can heal you, make it all better."

He couldn't answer. He wanted to say "no", order her away but she was soft and her body brought heat and it was so dark and lonely surrounded by the freezing rock.

"You're going to die again, Sam. Maybe ten minutes, maybe twenty but you're going to die."

Sam stilled, refusing to twitch or move or make a sound, hoping to lean on her a little bit longer before she deserted him again. But, it didn't work. She shoved him away and he tipped over like a groggy child. He gasped as the cold pressed into his skin.

"Fine," Ruby spit out viciously. "Die, Sam. But, I will bring you back and we will do this again. Until you say 'yes'."

Sam curled into himself drawing his legs up tight to this chest. He felt his heart pounding, slow but hard, against his chest. Cramps coursed through his abdomen while his throat ached like he was swallowing sand. He squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the final breath he knew was coming, hoping he could sleep through it this time and praying that she didn't follow through on bringing him back again.

But, he knew she would. Lucifer needed his vessel and Ruby needed to please Lucifer.

He concentrated on taking long, deep breaths trying to quell the terror. He wanted to delay his death as long as possible.

He hissed when Ruby knelt on his extended arm. She tilted her head as she ruffled the hair on Sam's head. Sam watched her nervously as she traced his face with her fingers and smiled.

"Such a beautiful human you are, Sam," she said. "Our time together was…" She seemed to be thinking before she said, "…was actually pretty good. My assignments can be so unpleasant but, you, tricking you, turning you against your brother, sharing your bed…well, it was pretty good."

Too weak to move away from her, Sam groaned as her knees ground into the bones of his forearm. She either didn't notice or didn't care. She just knelt there and watched him. He thought he could see her anticipation at his imminent death.

Then a sound, almost like a fluttering of leaves on a breezy night filtered into Sam's hearing. Then a blinding, silent light that made him think his brain fired its last filled him. He didn't feel his heart stop this time.


	6. Chapter 6

Blue Moon Demon

By: Coffeemaniac

This story is an adventure that spans from pre-series and into Season 7. It's liberally dosed with Bobby Singer, and includes appearances by John Winchester, Crowley and Gabriel (aka the Trickster, aka the Archangel)

Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

PART 6

Dean paced through the motel room like a caged animal while Cas sat unmoving on the edge of the bed. Whiskey burned through Dean's gut. His had phoned Bobby and his surrogate father called him a lot of things, none of them flattering, when Dean explained that he had attempted to pray to Belial.

"Are you suicidal? What are you thinking?" Bobby had demanded.

"I couldn't just sit here."

"Do you have any idea what you could've woke up? A creature like that doesn't even have to point a finger to wipe you out. He could've…Dean, I know you're not stupid but you do some of the most moronic, most idiotic…"

"Okay, okay, I get it, bad move. Gabriel agrees with you if that helps."

The news of Gabriel's involvement set off a whole new tirade until finally, Bobby had barked a "good-bye" at him and hung up.

Dean didn't know what Bobby expected him to do. They had tried everything from a séance to a locating spell to torturing demons and nothing had panned out. How could anyone expect Dean to just sit back and wait?

The sound of wings made him spin towards Cas thinking the angel had grown tired of Dean's ranting and fled. Instead he found Gabriel standing in the middle of the room supporting Sam.

Cas jumped up to help and the two angels gently lowered Sam to the bed.

Dean pushed his way between them and started examining Sam for injuries. As he performed his amateur triage he asked, "Was it Belial?"

"Yes," Gabriel said. "He yanked Ruby off the bench downstairs and put her back in the game. I smote her clear to oblivion so you don't have to worry about that again. I also made sure the right information got to the right ears. Lucifer will call Belial off. He knows he can't obtain his vessel this way."

"Can you heal Sam?"

"Sure," Gabriel answered then disappeared without doing it.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said, then to Cas. "Can you do anything?"

Castiel shook his head. "Regretfully, no, but I can tell you that you need to get him warm and get some fluids into him. He is severely dehydrated, malnourished and his body temperature is only 90.2."

"Crap," Dean said as he tore the blankets from the next bed and wrapped them around his brother. "There's a sleeping bag in the trunk of the Impala and an army blanket. Go grab them and bring them to me. Then start warming up some water on the stove. There're a couple of pans in the trunk too."

Dean tossed the car keys to Cas who caught them before heading outside.

Dean tucked the blankets around Sam while his brother shivered and moaned, curling up on his side with his arms wrapped close to his body.

"It's okay, Sammy, you're safe now. Just hang in there while we warm you up."

"Dean," Sam whispered.

"It's okay, it's okay, you're safe. I'm right here, Sam, I'm right here."

Dean rubbed Sam's shoulders and arms through the blanket hoping to stimulate the blood flow. Sam tried to pull away but he was too weak and too cocooned to get far. Dean kept talking and trying to warm him. When Cas returned, the angel lay the army blanket over Sam first then followed it with the unzipped sleeping bag. Dean tucked in the corners around his brother's body.

"Warm up some water. There're some bouillon cubes in my duffle."

Cas frowned for a moment then nodded. "You want me to make broth."

Dean didn't respond. He put his hand on Sam's face. Sam jerked his head away and tried to fight again.

"Take it easy, Sammy, just relax. It's me."

"What did she do to him?" Dean asked as he glanced back at Cas.

The angel stood at the stove in the kitchen stirring the pot over the flame. "I don't know but I can feel the chaos in his mind. You are making him warmer though."

"Hypothermia can make you confused," Dean said.

Dean turned back to Sam and sat on the side of the bed. He pulled the blankets tighter around him. He needed to get warm fluids into Sam but his brother could drown if he wasn't awake and swallowing properly.

"Really, Cas, there's nothing you can do to help him?" Dean asked.

"I am cut off from heaven. There are some things that are beyond me now."

"You've been popping in and out and all around. Why can you do that?"

"I do not know all the boundaries only that if I could heal Sam, I would."

Over the next hour, Dean paced the floor, watched and waited. Castiel reported on Sam's body temperature regularly and it was going up. The warmer Sam became the more animated his movements beneath the blankets. He kicked his legs out, burrowed deeper into the blankets and threw his head from side to side while he moaned softly. Dean spoke nonsense hoping his voice would bring some amount of comfort while his brother fought his way back from whatever had been done to him.

The only outright injuries Dean found were scraped up feet and some cracked skin along his hands and fingers. Sam's extremities were free from signs of frost bite and he didn't have any indications that he'd been restrained. From the dust and rock he cleaned out of his brother's feet combined with the hypothermia, Dean guessed that he was held outside but it must have been some kind of enclosure to keep him from escaping.

"He is nearly returned to normal human temperature," Cas said. "And I believe he's waking."

Dean stopped wearing out the floor and took his place on the bed. Sam's hair lay snarled and wild across his forehead. His cheeks showed pink with returning color while his lips stayed narrow and pale. Dean patted the blankets above his chest.

"Sam? Hey, Sammy, you coming back?"

Sam jerked away from him and threw out his hands just missing Dean's face.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's me," Dean said.

Sam drew his hands back under the blanket and shivered as he met Dean's eyes.

"How you doing, little brother?"

Sam didn't answer, just stared into Dean's face like it was the only thing in the world.

Dean glanced back at Cas then back to his brother. "Gabriel's more on our side than we thought. Or it might be more of a family feud thing but, uh, he saved you."

Sam scowled, confusion shadowing his expression. With a voice scraped by gravel, he said, "Gabriel saved me. The trickster, the…the…"

"Archangel. Yes," Cas answered.

Sam squinted as he seemed to struggle to get Cas into focus then closed his eyes for a moment. He re-opened them then looked from Dean to the angel. Dean offered a bottle of water and Sam slipped one hand out of his cocoon to take it. He sipped it for a few moments, finishing half before trying to speak again. His words dissolved into coughing. Dean took the water while Sam gripped the edge of the blanket. His eyes were watering as he shivered.

Dean lifted him up, holding his shaking body upright as the coughing jag slowed. When he seemed to be breathing normally again he let him go and Sam slipped back against the headboard. He yanked the blankets up to his neck.

Clearing his throat, he asked, "Why would he rescue me?"

"I don't know," Dean said. "But, he did. We'll put that in the 'win' column."

"How'd he get past the angel warding on our ribs?"

"He knew Ruby took you. I'm not sure how he followed the bread crumbs but once he knew that, he was able to find you. Doesn't really matter since you're here now."

Sam rubbed his face then stuck his arms back under the blanket. "She wanted me to say 'yes' to Lucifer."

"She was not working alone, Sam," Cas said. "Her employer is one of my Father's creations. It was actually he who was attempting to extract your agreement."

"I thought maybe. She had some serious juice. Could make things appear and disappear. She could bring me back to life. I've never seen a demon be able to do all that."

Dean froze, his body throwing a shiver from his torso through his fingers. "What do you mean, brought you back to life?"

"She said she'd bring me back and she did. She figured I'd hate dying enough to give in."

Dean sat back, feeling his face drain of color.

"What, specifically, caused your death?" Cas asked, sounding curious.

"Dehydration, starvation, I guess. The cold."

"She just let you…die," Dean said, the words fighting to get out of him.

Sam shrugged dislodging the blankets. He shuffled them back up to his shoulders with a small noise.

"I'm freezing," he said.

"Yeah, we got you back up to normal but it's going to take some time."

"Perhaps the warm soup. And some tea," Cas suggested.

Sam sighed giving Cas a look that showed desperation and gratitude in equal measure. Dean felt the anger trampling into this throat. His limbs thrummed with it. His brother should never be reduced to looking like a bowl of soup was his salvation.

"I'm okay," Sam said quietly. "Food, water, back to normal. Simple as that."

"I want to stab her all over again," Dean said.

"If we get the chance, I'll hold her for you. Again."

"I don't think you'll get the chance," Cas said. "My brother disposed of her."

Sam nodded, the relief in his eyes outweighing any disappointment that he might be trying to muster.

"Sam," Dean said, wishing he didn't have to ask. "She didn't…did she try the demon blood again?"

Sam shook his head. "No. Um, honestly, I didn't even think of that. Maybe she didn't either."

"It's more likely," Cas began as he handed Sam a coffee mug filled with chicken broth, "that she and Belial realized that if you were impaired with demon blood then your acceptance of Lucifer would be void."

"Belial?" Sam asked as he sipped from the warm cup. He grimaced at the first taste and lowered the cup to his lap. "Stomach's not ready," he said.

Dean cursed inwardly. He stood up and moved to sit on the other bed. He rested his hands on either side of his legs. "Belial is an angel and a demon, combined. Apparently he's decided that he likes his demon side better and is pro-devil."

"I've heard of him," Sam said. "Obscure references. Deuteronomy, I think. The Dead Sea Scrolls mention him too."

"Still a geek," Dean said, shaking his head fondly.

"He is practically unknown among angels," Cas said. "More like the boogeyman that humans use to threaten their children. I know of no one who has ever laid eyes on him. Until now I would have said he didn't exist."

"Well, I didn't see him and Ruby didn't mention him," Sam said. "She was the only there and I figured she was still working with Lucifer."

"Good," Dean said. "Now they can just go find someone else to bother until the Apocalypse."

Dean noticed Sam flinch at his cavalier remark but he didn't apologize. Anyone with half a brain knew the two of them were on the losing side.

Sam leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He held on to the soup but his grip seemed loose. Cas must have noticed because he took the cup away and set it on the nightstand. Sam pulled the blankets back up to his shoulders but Dean could see him rubbing his arms underneath.

"You should get some sleep," Dean said. "Hypothermia is a bitch."

"Dying isn't a picnic either," Sam said.

Dean's stomach tightened at the offhand remark. He walked into the kitchen area to retrieve warm water. He poured it into a cup, dropped a teabag in then brought it to Sam.

"Try to get some of this down."

Sam took it, using the heated mug to warm his hands. Dean cocked his head so Sam drank some of it. Then he drank some more. Dean guessed the tea must be settling easier than the soup.

Dean startled when his phone rang. He expected to see Bobby's name on the display but instead it was a number he didn't recognize. He flipped it open.

"You have the wrong number," he said.

"Dean? Dean Winchester? This is Martin Creaser. I was a friend of your Dad's."

"Sure, Martin, I remember you. How are you doing?"

Dean shrugged in Sam's direction who was staring at him curiously.

"Still crazy," Martin said. "But, I need help."

Dean listened to Martin describing strange deaths at the mental hospital where he was living. Dean told him he'd call him back. He disconnected.

"Crazy Martin?" Sam said.

"He's in a loony bin. Says there's a monster and it's killing people."

"He's in a loony bin," Sam said, pointedly.

Dean shrugged. "I know but he's a friend of Dad's and he saved Dad's life." He shrugged again then sat up straighter. "No, forget it. You're in no shape. Besides we have a souped-up deemgel? angeldem ? demon-angel to kill."

Dean grinned at his attempts to combine the two species into a name. Sam and Cas just stared at him without comment.

"You cannot kill Belial," Castiel said, finally.

"A lot of monsters think that until we do," Dean said.

"No, I mean, there's no way to kill him. Belial does not exist in the human realm. He's not in heaven or hell. He exists on a different plane. There is literally no way for you to seek him out and vanquish him."

"He was able to raise Ruby," Sam said.

"In the depths of hell, he may have reach but not on earth, and he has never resided in heaven."

"You're sure?" Dean said.

"Of course," Cas said. "He is beyond your wrath."

Dean turned to Sam. Dark circles framed his eyes. Pale lips cut through a face just slightly pinker than a corpse.

"You're not up to it," he said to Sam.

"Give me a day to warm up," Sam said. "I'll sleep, I'll eat and we'll go. We owe him."

"I don't like it," Dean said.

"Thanks for your help, Cas," Sam said to the angel. He set the empty tea cup on the night stand and rolled on to his side. He pulled the covers up tight around his shoulders. In a few moments, Dean heard the soft exhales of his sleeping brother.

"I should go," Castiel said then disappeared in the sound of batting wings.

Dean shook his head thinking his friend needed to work on his social skills.

Remembering that Bobby hadn't been told that Sam was safe, he took out his phone and pressed in the speed dial. He told Bobby about Gabriel rescuing Sam, about the hypothermia and Ruby and the death that she brought him back him from. After a while he told Bobby they were heading to Oklahoma to help Martin Creaser. Bobby told him to go slow, to give Sam time to heal, and to be careful because Martin was crazy. Dean reassured him then settled on to the motel bed and heaved a sigh of relief at having his brother back.


	7. Chapter 7

Blue Moon Demon

By: Coffeemaniac

This story is an adventure that spans from pre-series and into Season 7. It's liberally dosed with Bobby Singer, and includes appearances by John Winchester, Crowley and Gabriel (aka the Trickster, aka the Archangel)

Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

PART 7

November, 2010

***Set between Family Matters and All Dogs Go to Heaven***

Dean hefted his duffle up to his shoulder as he mounted the steps leading on to Bobby's porch. The white-knuckled grip he strangled the handle with told Sam what he already knew. Dean might profess a willingness to deal with the recent revelations about Sam but he was nowhere near acceptance. Not that Sam cared. He really didn't. Dean was welcome to twist himself up into knots with worry and anger. Sam didn't feel it and didn't miss the emotions.

He took the steps in the position that he always adopted: behind Dean, following Dean, in Dean's shadow. He didn't care about that either. He could be the subservient little brother, following orders and listening to advice because when it came down to action, he knew it was all up to him. He killed monsters. That's the only thing that mattered. If a civilian died and a hundred were saved, he accepted that.

As he stepped over the threshold to Bobby's kitchen, he remembered a time when a warm, safe feeling enveloped him just by being there. He didn't feel that now. The heat from the stove and the fire from the den took away the chill in his body. The aroma of food promised to fill the emptiness in his belly. A sleeping bag on the floor provided a place to rest. He didn't sleep anymore but his body needed breaks on occasion. All of those things were a given in Bobby's house. It didn't elicit joy or peace but he could appreciate having the basics met.

"Sam." Bobby greeted him but there was a hesitation in his voice. His posture broadcasted wariness.

"Bobby," Sam returned.

"Well, that was warm and fuzzy," Dean said.

Sam tossed a scowl at his brother for pointing out his lack of emotion. It was all Dean seemed capable of doing.

"I smell pork chops," Sam said.

"Yeah, I uh, stuffed them with homemade dressing," Bobby said. "Had a couple hours free this afternoon so I figured, why not? You boys hungry?"

"Always," Dean answered.

"Sure," Sam said.

"Good. Then, uh, go ahead and stow your gear, clean up. We can chow down and you can tell me what we're going to do about Crowley."

They had agreed to work for Crowley in order to keep Sam from returning to the cage with Lucifer. Crowley had also promised to retrieve Sam's soul.

"We're going to hunt Alphas," Sam said.

Bobby toyed with his baseball cap. "Yeah, I know that part. What I want to know is how we're going to stick it to him so you two aren't working for the self-appointed King of Hell any longer than you have to be."

Dean headed to the front room to store his bag but Bobby stopped Sam with a hand on his arm.

"How are you feeling, son?"

"I feel great, Bobby."

"If I'd told Dean that you were back from Hell then maybe, maybe, we could've started working on getting your soul back sooner."

"We're working on it now. We got yours back, right?"

"Yeah, but, uh, mine was a little more accessible."

Sam shrugged as he walked out of the kitchen. He didn't know if Bobby wanted assurance or forgiveness but both were useless, so Sam put his bag away then headed to the upstairs bathroom. He cleaned up as instructed then went back downstairs. As he walked into the kitchen he overheard Dean saying, "At least I don't want to stab him. For now."

"Good to know," Sam said. He pulled one of the chairs out and slid into it.

Dean looked away, glancing through the doorway while he fingered the bottle of beer sitting in front of him. Bobby cleared his throat. He pulled plates out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.

"Your granddaddy's gone to ground," Bobby said. "I put some feelers out to see if we could track him but he's nowhere around."

"He knows I'll kill him," Dean said.

"He's not worried about that," Sam said. "He's probably regrouping. He still wants his daughter back so he's not going to stop looking for Alphas."

"His daughter? You mean our mother?"

Sam shrugged. "Yes."

"She doesn't mean anything to you either, does she?"

"No. I know about her. I know I should have feelings about her memory. But, really, I never knew her so what feelings could there have been anyway?"

"She's our mother."

"She's a photo in a frame, Dean."

"Okay," Bobby said. "Let's table this discussion until we all have souls."

He opened the oven and took out a long glass pan filled with pork chops overflowing with bread stuffing. Using tongs he put two on each plate, added a scoop of green beans and then handed them back. Sam's stomach growled appreciatively as he sliced into the meat. He observed Dean and Bobby as they ate. Both seemed as interested in the food as he was. He remembered that a good meal at Bobby's used to mean more than calories. It used to mean safety as well but Sam couldn't remember why or how food could elicit emotions.

"So, Bobby, you said you need to talk to us," Dean said. He shoved a piece of pork chop dripping with dressing into his mouth.

Bobby used his napkin as he swallowed. He looked from Dean to Sam and appeared to be deciding what to say next. Sam could relate to that. Hiding his idiosyncrasies since returning from Hell had been exhausting as he tried to choose each word and expression in order to keep the world from knowing that something was different.

"I have a…a problem, I guess and I need some extra hands with it."

"Wow, Bobby, look at you, actually asking for help," Dean said.

"Shut up," Bobby said.

Dean sat back but he didn't show the anger in his expression that Sam expected. Normally, Dean responded poorly to being ordered to do anything. And Sam knew that being told to "shut up" was rude and could be confrontational. But, Dean just sat back and stared at Bobby with his eyebrows drawn closer together and slight tilt of his head.

"When my wife…died…the first time, there was something about her that I didn't know until…later."

"The autopsy findings?" Sam asked.

Dean sent a glare at him as Bobby stood up from the table. Sam realized he had made some sort of social lapse but he didn't understand it. To avoid another pointless, time-wasting fight with Dean he returned to finishing his meal.

"No, not that. I found a journal that she was keeping as well as some books. It led me to how she got possessed in the first place." Bobby hesitated. He took a long breath before continuing. "Karen has a sister who was, well, at the time I thought she was just odd. But, it turned out that she was a practicing witch. She was the one who summoned the demon who took Karen."

"Why would she do that?" Sam said.

"It wasn't intentional. Barbara was careless but she wasn't…she isn't…a bad person. Believe me I had to come to terms with that or I would have killed her years ago."

Dean nodded, and Sam thought that his brother could relate, but he also thought it was different than the way Sam was relating. Sam didn't understand why a witch was still taking breath.

"The demon, the one who took over Karen…I guess you'd say he isn't just the regular, run of the mill type. Dean, you tried to summon him last year, before Sam went in the cage."

"I don't summon demons, Bobby."

"You do when you're looking for your missing brother."

"Belial," Sam said, remembering the time in Ruby's cave and then finding out it was an demon-angel engineering the whole thing.

Bobby nodded as Dean sat forward and pushed his plate out of the way.

"Your wife was possessed by God's enforcer. Really."

"'fraid so. Barbara got her hands on some potent spells and she brought him into this realm. She wanted to control him. She thought he was less of a handful than Lucifer would've been."

"She was aiming pretty high," Sam said, somewhat impressed with the moxie of this woman he'd never met.

"Or pretty low," Dean said. "Why would anyone be stupid enough to summon a demon created by God? And what kind of power does she have that she'd able to do it?"

Bobby shook his head. "I don't know. I mean, I know what she's said but…"

"What did she say?"

"She was a practicing witch, not Wiccan, not white magic, full blown black arts. Her coven had fifteen or so women. They're High Priestess was dying and they needed a successor. Since there were several Elitist members and they were all interested in the position, the High Priestess set up a contest. The one who could prove the most powerful would get the job. Barbara set her sights on presenting Belial as her offering."

"She was up to her neck in pride, envy and greed. Makes perfect sense," Sam said, knowing exactly what motivated Karen Singer's sister.

Bobby nodded with a grim expression.

Dean stood up. He picked the plates up from the table and set them in the sink. He turned the water on and began rinsing them off. Sam glanced at him but his attention was on Bobby. He wanted to know what Bobby wanted them to do but not because he was anxious to help. Sam preferred working and this sounded like a job.

"I have to summon Belial," Bobby said.

"You what?" Dean demanded as he spun away from the sink.

"I've been trying to do it for a few years now but it hasn't worked out. I think I figured out why so I need to try again in a couple days. I want you boys to help me."

"Why, Bobby?" Sam asked.

"Belial has a piece of Karen's soul. I want it to go back to her. She can't rest until it's all in heaven with her."

"You think she went to heaven? She was a demon when you…"

"She was innocent, Sam. Nothing that happened was her fault. I know she went upstairs. But, I also know that part of her is missing." Bobby trained his gaze on Sam. "You know what I'm saying."

"Why do you think that he has a piece of her soul?"

"That's what Barbara used to send him back."

"What?" Dean asked.

"When Belial escaped from Barbara, she panicked. She ran to us. She didn't tell us anything, just showed up. Karen and I were going through some stuff and I think she…Barb probably got uncomfortable. Anyway, she left but by then Karen was possessed. Barb didn't know, or, she says she didn't anyway."

"But, you believe her," Sam said.

Bobby continued as if he hadn't spoken, "Then when I called her to tell her that something was wrong with her sister, she did a spell. Not from here, she never came back here. She and her coven did it. They extracted a piece of Karen's soul and used it to attract Belial. After I…I killed Karen, he was sucked back to them and they banished him but they didn't save her soul from him."

"How do you take a part of a soul?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's more like the essence, I guess. Different than you, son. Her soul is still with her. But, the spirituality of it, the thing that makes it holy, that's what they took. And that's what Belial has."

"You said you've tried this a few times," Dean said.

"Belial can be summoned anytime. But, the lore says he's most vulnerable during blue moons. Apparently, humans have been successful in binding him until the end of the cycle and during that time he can be convinced to make deals."

"Wait, Bobby, deals? Come on, you know deals are bad news for us."

Bobby shoved back from the table. He set a glare on Dean that had the other man holding his hands up.

"I just want you to think is all."

"You don't want to help me then don't."

"That's not what I said. But, I won't help you lose your soul again, or worse, so why don't you tell me the plan before you get all…excited."

"Yeah, Bobby, what's the plan?" Sam said. The idea of trapping a unique monster like Belial intrigued him. He wondered if they could use Belial to work a deal with Crowley.

Bobby sent a laser eyed glare to both of them before he turned around and leaned with both hands on the counter. After a few moments, long enough for Sam to want to start fidgeting, he turned back. He sighed, took his baseball cap off and rubbed his head. He replaced the cap and sighed again.

"All right, I want to summon him into a demon trap. We'll just give him a choice. Give Karen back her soul…"

Sam started to correct him so Bobby clarified, "the essence of her soul. Or he can rot in the demon trap."

"He's part angel. What makes you think the demon trap will hold him?" Sam said.

"Well, that'll be the interesting part, won't it?"

"What if we surrounded the trap in holy oil? Light that up." Dean said.

Bobby nodded. "See, there, I knew I brought you boys into this for a reason. I'll summon him. You boys take care of keeping him in one place."

"This is what you were doing when I got burned, wasn't it? Way back when I was a kid?" Sam said.

"Yep. Your Daddy thought it was a bad idea."

Dean frowned and shook his head. "He should've helped you."

"Maybe. But, he was worried about you two. Sam was hurt. Level heads did not prevail that day."

Dean nodded, evidently agreeing.

Sam watched the interplay between them knowing he had the same memories but there was no emotion attached to them. Based on the opinions of the people around him, Sam believed the person he was before going into the cage, was highly emotional. He sort of remembered that although without the feelings to apply now he wasn't really sure what it meant.

"That's why you chewed my head off last year too, isn't it?" Dean said.

"I did the spell but Belial didn't make an appearance. The other times I've tried I've gotten close but there was nothing. I think he was in the middle of that mess with Sam."

"You think I interfered with what you were doing?"

"No, I think he's one of the most dangerous things we've ever come across. I knew what he was, Dean. I'd studied him. When I found out you were praying to him…well, let's just say it was one of more than a few times that you've nearly killed me."

"Bobby," Sam said. "Why do you think you'll be successful in summoning him this time?"

"It's the blue moon lore. There are two ways to look at it. Some people say that a blue moon is when there are two full moons in a single month. Some people say that it's when there are four full moons in a single season instead of three. I've been following the rules of the first one. But, I was wrong. If we want to bring him here and bind him then it's the four in a three month period."

"When's the next one?" Sam asked.

"November 21st. If we don't do it this time then we'll have to wait until August of 2013."

"We'll probably be dead by then," Dean said

"We have two days," Sam said.

"Then we better get a good night's sleep." Bobby looked at Sam pointedly. "Those of us who do sleep. Because tomorrow is going to be a busy day."

Sam stayed at the table while Dean and Bobby finished picking up the remnants of dinner. Then they told each other "good night" and separated. Bobby went upstairs to his bedroom. Dean went to the alcove off the kitchen where a couch waited for him. Neither spoke to Sam as they settled in for the night.

Since Sam didn't sleep, he retrieved his laptop and started looking into Belial and his connection to the full moon. He spent a couple of hours verifying Bobby's information. Then he made his way into Bobby's study where he pawed around until he found something that told him Barbara's last name. It came in the form of an old letter that Barbara had written to him. It must have been after he killed Karen because the gist of the letter was letting him know that what happened wasn't his fault. Barbara didn't take responsibility but she was clearly trying to soothe over his concerns.

After they retrieved Karen Singer's eau de soul, Sam figured Barbara needed a visit. Witches, while human, caused a lot of trouble and were often deadly. This one caused a lethal demon to be released who ultimately cost Bobby his wife. Sam decided he couldn't let that stand.

As Sam skimmed over websites he wondered about Karen Singer. Would she want her missing part back?

Dean insisted that Sam needed his soul and it was probably true. Sam remembered his life before the cage. He knew his actions were different now. His brain gave him information that told him his behavior was like that of a sociopath. The problem was that he didn't feel it. Whatever actions he had taken since something spit him out of the cage; he'd made for the greater good. He still saved innocents even when one had to be sacrificed. He still killed monsters, not humans, unless the death of the humans was necessary. His focus and determination made him the best hunter working so he didn't fully understand why Dean needed him to be different. But, his brother remained unyielding on the subject so Sam allowed the possibility that he might not be in the best mindset to disagree.

As he stood up to stretch his back he heard Dean's snuffling snore from the foyer. Sam didn't know if he actually missed sleeping. But there was something about the act of lying down and feeling completely relaxed that held some appeal. Although even thinking that seemed foreign. He didn't need to relax. Stress and worry no longer bothered him. Maybe it was just the act of lying still or maybe he missed dreaming.

He dismissed that stream of thought as unproductive and walked into the kitchen to look outside the door. The security lights illuminated a thin mist of snow flurries being batted around in the wind.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam spun in surprise, reaching for his knife and found Crowley holding up his hands in a conciliatory way. He wore a small smile and a smug expression.

"Is that any way to greet your boss?"

"I will kill you before all this is over," Sam said.

"Always flirting, aren't you? That missing soul of yours has made a new man of you."

"What do you want? How'd you even get through the wards on this place?"

"Please, Sam, I've been here quite often. Kissed your friend here when he needed a little something from me."

Reaching for the demon knife, Sam wanted to kill Crowley. He stopped himself because Crowley promised he could return his soul, but it took effort and discipline not to drive the knife into the face of the King of Hell.

"Ah, ah," Crowley said, apparently noticing Sam's hand poised near the knife. "No fighting, not this trip. I've come to give you a bit of advice."

"I don't need to hear anything you have to say."

"The demon…well, the angel slash demon that you are attempting to contact will find your soulless vessel very intriguing. I suggest that you avoid this little tete a tete. Dear Bobby's wife is dead and gone. She doesn't need the piece that's missing. Well, I suppose she does since being stuck between worlds without even the benefit of the spiritual plane to reside in is certainly disconcerting. Just endless black, you understand. But, I'm certain she's gone quite mad by now so it won't matter if he convinces Belial to return it."

"Bobby won't give up. And I'm here so…"

"He should leave it alone. And you most certainly should. Explain the danger to your brother and I'm sure he'll insist."

"Dean doesn't make my decisions."

"No, of course not. But, you don't feel anything. Bobby is just another link in the chain to you. Another person that you have to deal with when you'd rather be hunting. Listen to me, Moose, walk away from it."

"You don't make my decisions either."

"Ah, but you do work for me, don't you? If you want your soul back then…"

"I'll hunt Alphas. But, that's where our business arrangement ends. That's the deal. And you always keep your deals, right?"

Crowley shrugged as he cocked his head to one side.

"Besides if we can bring Belial to you then…"

"No, no, no, I don't want him. He's not an alpha and Lucifer is taking up enough room in Hell without adding a playmate."

Sam shrugged, surprised that Crowley didn't want the powerful hybrid.

"We're still going to help Bobby," Sam said.

"All right, have it your way. Just remember that I warned you."

Crowley disappeared.


	8. Chapter 8

Blue Moon Demon

By: Coffeemaniac

This story is an adventure that spans from pre-series and into Season 7. It's liberally dosed with Bobby Singer, and includes appearances by John Winchester, Crowley and Gabriel (aka the Trickster, aka the Archangel)

As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated. Thank you to those who have taken the time to send me a note about this story as well as those who are following or have marked this one as a favorite.

This part is relatively short, more of a set up for the conclusion. Thanks for staying with me.

PART 8

Lisa curled up against his chest. Her warmth lit his skin as she nestled her head against his shoulder. Her soft hair tickled Dean's neck. He ran light fingertips down the middle of her back enjoying the trail of goosebumps and her soft sigh. She placed her flat hand against his belly leaving it to rest while they both recovered. Lisa loved to cover him with her body after they made love. She loved to listen to his heartbeat. For Dean, he just loved the satisfied, sated feeling of peace that she brought just by her trust and her strength.

"You make me happy," he said, surprised to say the words out loud.

But, it was true. Being with her, living with her and raising Ben like partners gave him a sense of belonging that he didn't know existed. He hadn't even known he was capable of it. She released a dream in him that he never expected could be his.

She rubbed her nose against his skin and sighed again. Then softly, with just a tiny bit of tired in her voice she said, "What if your brother comes back?"

Dean felt the question like a jolt of electricity, like she had jammed a stun gun into his chest.

"What?" He said.

"He's dead. Sam is dead. In the cage," she said.

"Why are you saying this?"

Lisa chuckled as she turned on her side, still lying on him but looking at him too.

"Being tortured. Being shredded. But, he could come back. He could destroy us."

"No, he's…I can't get him back."

"You'll leave us. Me and Ben. You'll leave us to rot, let us be killed. You'll sacrifice us for Sam."

"Lisa, I wouldn't do that."

"You already did."

Dean bolted up, his heart pounding. He fought for breath, taking it in gulps while he wiped sweat off his forehead. He felt like someone stabbed him as the full weight of losing Lisa crashed in on him. He'd been holding the loss at bay, determined not to feel it, trying desperately to hold on to the hope that maybe he could make things right with her. But, grief rolled over him and his mind conjured pictures of Lisa and Ben while he realized he couldn't have them anymore. The home and family he had built was gone just as surely as his parents were gone. Silently he lay back down and closed his eyes.

"Damn it," he whispered.

Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Dean pushed himself to sit up. He put his feet on the floor, feeling cold seep through his gray socks. He picked the cell phone up from the floor, vaguely remembering that he hadn't plugged it in to charge, as he thumbed through his contacts. Lisa's name shined back at him, accusing him of deserting her. The sadness swept through him again and he had to take several breaths just to push it back, force it away.

Bobby's voice greeting Sam shook Dean out of the memory and he stood up. Some days it felt like a huge effort just to do that much. He padded into the downstairs bathroom and turned on the shower. He wasn't ready to face Sam. The fury he had for his brother refused to die down. Over and over he told himself that it wasn't Sam's fault. Whoever reached into Lucifer's cage left the soul behind. How would Sam know, how would anyone know something like that?

But, Sam did know something was wrong. And he hid it.

Dean pushed his face into the warm spray of water, squeezing his hands into fists. He needed to spend some time tearing apart a car or ripping down a wall. If he didn't exorcise the aggression strangling him then he'd likely do some real damage.

He missed them so much. Just seeing Ben with bedhead and pajamas in the morning and hearing Lisa wish him a good morning while Dean scrambled eggs. Feeling Lisa's warm body snuggle against him, kissing him lightly while she told him about her day made him ache for them. He had a good life with them. They had begun to make a good life together.

A knock on the door startled him. Then Sam's voice followed. "Breakfast is ready. Get a move on."

Dean rinsed the shampoo from his hair but didn't answer. He reached out and turned off the water. Taking just a little bit longer than necessary he dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist. Lost in his thoughts, he had forgotten clothes but it wasn't like the three of them weren't used to each other. He wasn't embarrassed, just cold as he retrieved his bag and returned to the bathroom.

He dressed in jeans, undershirt and blue Henley then headed into the kitchen where toasted waffles, butter and syrup waited on the table. Bobby handed him a cup of coffee. The older man looked just like he always did, an aging lumberjack in a baseball cap. Sam hadn't changed from the night before but he taken off the plaid over shirt.

"Thank you," Dean said as he sat down, cradling the warm mug.

"Crowley popped in last night," Sam said.

Bobby dropped his hands on the counter behind him.

"What? Why didn't you say something?" Dean said.

"I am saying something. You said 'no secrets' so I'm telling you. He didn't do anything that you needed to wake up for."

"Having him in the house is enough."

Sam sighed. "Noted. Anyway, he thinks we should forget about your wife, Bobby. Says Belial is too powerful. He also thinks my soullessness will attract him. He might want to possess me because of it."

"Did he say if she was safe?"

"She's safe, I guess but she's in a kind of empty darkness that she can't get out of. Crowley thinks she's probably crazy by now but, I was thinking, she was pretty normal when she was a zombie so…"

Dean watched Bobby flinch with each careless description. The old Sam would never have been so callous but this one didn't notice or care that he was stabbing Bobby in the heart.

"Sam," Dean said. "Stop talking."

Sam threw him a scowl before grabbing a couple waffles and throwing them on a plate.

Bobby had turned away from both of them and was gripping the counter with white knuckles.

"We're going to take care of this, Bobby. We're going to save her," Dean said. "And Sam is right even if his delivery is crap. She was nice when she came back the last time. No sign of going vengeful or anything else. When we get her put back together she'll be okay."

Bobby put his back to the counter. "It's been a long time since I killed her. A long time to be stuck."

"Yeah, okay. But as far as you could tell, she didn't remember any of it. When we save her, she'll go to heaven and the time in between will probably be forgotten. For now, let's just go with that. If we're wrong, maybe Cas can help. Whatever, we'll figure it out."

Bobby nodded and straightened his cap. "All right, what about this Belial wanting Sam."

"The tattoo will keep me from getting possessed," Sam said.

Dean let out a soft breath. "It wouldn't be that hard to take it off."

Sam swallowed some waffle and drank some coffee. "You need me. That's it," he said.

Dean glanced at Bobby and found him fidgeting. He figured they were thinking the same thing. Neither one wanted anything to happen to Sam but they did need his help. Bobby was probably embarrassed about putting his own needs first. And Dean, he just didn't know how to make his brother stand down, and help Bobby too. He doubted he'd be able to convince Sam to do anything anyway.

Realizing his reasons sounded more like excuses, Dean stopped arguing it out in his head.


	9. Chapter 9

Blue Moon Demon

By: Coffeemaniac

This story is an adventure that spans from pre-series and into Season 7. It's liberally dosed with Bobby Singer, and includes appearances by John Winchester, Crowley and Gabriel (aka the Trickster, aka the Archangel)

Reviews are welcome and appreciated.

Thank you to all those who have followed this story all the way through.

CONCLUSION

In the end the plan to summon Belial rested on simplicity.

They painted the Devil's Trap, circled it with holy oil and placed the grill in the center.

Clouds crowded in the sky, gray and foreboding. The moon hid behind them, likely frustrating amateur astrologists and curiosity seekers who wanted to experience the unusual event.

For the purposes of summoning Belial, the cloud cover was inconsequential. Some believed that the full power of the moon lay in its visibility but Dean rejected that idea. He knew that as long as the full moon rose, they could access it to trap the demon.

He added a thermal undershirt to his layers as he prepared to meet Sam outside. With the temperature hovering at thirty five degrees, he didn't know how long they'd be out there and he didn't want to start shivering in the damp cold.

As he stepped off Bobby's porch he spotted Sam walking the perimeter of their trap. Bobby stood nearby reading an old book, his gloved fingers skimming over the page.

"I think we're ready," he said to Dean.

"If you would let me do the summoning, we're almost guaranteed his appearance," Sam said as he reached them.

"We've already been over this," Dean said. Irritation flared up that Sam was revisiting the argument.

"I'm more interesting to him."

"Yeah, more interesting, like a piñata that needs filling." Bobby said. "We're not using you as bait."

"He can possess you more easily than me," Sam said. "I have the tattoo. And I'm in better physical shape to fight him off. It makes more sense."

Dean glared at Sam while Bobby scowled. Sam looked between the two of them, his emotionless gaze reminded Dean of a serial killer. But, Dean couldn't deny that Sam had made a valid point.

"I'm still pretty spry for an old man," Bobby said, contempt dripping from his words.

"You're making this personal," Sam said.

"Wait, wait," Dean said, hating the role of peacemaker. He'd been doing it so long it was a natural reflex but he still hated it. "Bobby, he has a point."

"Excuse me?"

"About the tattoo. Not the other thing. So, let me do it. I have a soul and I know the incantation."

"This is my wife, Dean, my fight. I can't ask you to…"

"Bobby, we're family. This isn't about asking."

Bobby stopped. Dean watched him, the steps playing across his face as he reached the same conclusion. He looked ten years older as he said,

"Okay. Do the spell. But, if that demon kills you, I'll never forgive you. Understand me?"

Dean nodded. "It'll be okay."

Sam hesitated as if he might argue but he didn't. He strode to the edge of the circle.

Bobby patted Dean's shoulder as he walked towards the other side.

Dean glanced around at the other hunters. Mist poured from their mouths and noses as their breath met the bitter cold. Both of them stood like soldiers, alert and ready for battle. Surrounded by decimated vehicles and bare trees, the scene looked like the end result of a cataclysm.

With the herbs prepared by Bobby, Dean was ready to start the incantation. He took a last breath, checked his pockets for holy water and lamented the fact that Meg had stolen their demon killing knife.

He opened the book that Bobby left on the small table beside the grill. As he read the words, he sprinkled more ingredients, equally gratified and worried as the herbs billowed and sifted independent of the wind. The aroma of herbs filled the air and heat wafted towards him. Gradually a spark snapped igniting the ingredients with a sudden flash. Dean drew back a step with the intensity.

A shadow, gray and indistinct slowly formed inside the flames. The gray and black color reminded Dean of the flicked ashes inside an ashtray. As it took human shape, it grew until long legs stepped through the grill, shattering the metal with a screech. Dean stared at the oval shape above the widened shoulders searching for expression but the facial features hadn't developed.

With flames burning orange and gold behind the ash, the creature planted its feet against the cold, cement. Dark crevices carved out of the blob, leaving flat red circles where eyes should live. Gradually a mouth cracked through like a deep wound opening in skin.

Dean grabbed his head with one hand as he clutched the holy water with the other. A booming echo, like remnants of a jet engine rammed into his brain making his head throb and his eyes water. Meaningless sounds pummeled him; words but no meaning pounded through his skull.

"Wait," he gasped. The pain collapsed him as his knees shook with the effort to stay on his feet.

He backed up a few steps, seeing the ash flake away from the body as a man materialized through the flames. The red eyes remained, hard and marbled, but the limbs grew long from a narrow torso. A black suit wrapped around the scarecrow frame with a starched white shirt and narrow tie. Above its head a black fedora appeared over black curls emphasizing the stark red orbs peering out of its newly formed skull.

"You…summoned…how dare…"

Dean barely managed to make any meaning of the baritone echo attacking his brain.

The ground flamed up and the heat sent Dean stumbling backward as he dropped the holy water and clutched his head.

"Wait." He knew the word left him but he couldn't hear his own voice or make sense of the figure towering above him.

"Hey," Sam's voice cut through the noise and Dean latched on to the familiar sound.

Another explosion erased the short relief. Dean thought he cried out as the agonizing volume decimated his eardrums, making his brain tremble inside his skull. Dean wrapped his arms around his head, crouching on the frozen cement hoping he died before he imploded.

When the thunderous echo diminished, it took some time for Dean to notice. His ears still reverberated with the sound until gradually he realized the words filling his brain were comprehensible.

"Who are you to summon me?" Belial said.

Dean cleared his throat as he backed away from the well-dressed demon hovering over him.

"We want to make a deal."

Dean continued moving, making his way to the burning circle of holy oil.

"You have nothing," Belial said. "Except possibly…" his voice trailed off as he searched the outside of the circle, his attention landing on Sam.

"Where is your soul?"

"Hey, pay attention," Dean said. He dove through the flame, heat slicking across his exposed hands and face, and landing gracelessly several feet away.

He rolled to his feet to find Bobby had moved closer to Sam. The two stood shoulder to shoulder watching Belial glide slowly inside the burning circle.

"You have something we want," Dean said. "And now we have you."

"You overestimate your control. But, I am willing to hear your demands."

Bobby took a step closer. "My wife's soul is incomplete and it's preventing her from entering heaven. You have it."

"I have many kernels to fill me. Tell me more of this one you seek."

Bobby spilled the tale of Karen and her sister, of the mistake and the panicked action that led to Belial's summoning. He ended the story by emphasizing Karen's innocence and requesting again that the essence of her soul be returned.

Belial's form grew more tangible as time passed. He seemed disturbingly solid by the time Bobby finished talking.

"Her marrow is of little consequence to me. I will trade. The soulless boy will suffice in return."

"That's not on offer," Sam said.

"No, it's not," Dean said. "We'll let you out of this circle after you release Karen Singer's soul…part. That's the deal."

"You cannot hold me here. I grow stronger as we speak. Your trap is temporary. I offer you your life in return for this abomination. And I will give you the kernel as a gesture of goodwill."

"No," Bobby said. "We won't trade. The devil's trap and the holy oil will hold. You're bluffing."

Belial lurched towards the fire, standing so close, Dean expected his clothes to burst into flame. Bobby stood rooted to the spot, meeting the creature's gaze. An instant later, Bobby yelled out, grabbing his skull as he collapsed to his knees. Sam rushed towards him, grabbed his arm and dragged him a few feet away from the circle. Sam marched back but kept a greater distance between him and God's monster.

"Without a soul, I'm no use to you," Sam said. "You collect the essence for power. What are you going to do with an empty human?"

Dean winced at Sam's words. He had thought of Sam as empty but hearing the phrase uttered with cold, indifference chilled him.

"Empty is the perfect vessel to fill."

"You're an angel so you need my permission and I don't care if his wife goes to heaven. There's no deal to be made."

"I'm also a demon."

Dean glanced at Bobby who was standing now. Dean motioned for him to stay back then moved closer to Sam's side.

"Angels can't possess humans without consent," Dean said. "That's the reason you haven't entered this realm, isn't it? Your demon side keeps the devout and holy away, and your angel side needs permission."

"It's the soul that protects humans from angel possession, isn't it?" Sam said. "The soul is the reason angels need consent."

Belial's eyes narrowed. A slow smile spread across his face.

"When I held you in the cavern, freezing and starving you to death. Brutally and deliberately convincing you to grant my brother entrance, you had a soul, didn't you? How careless of you to lose it, to make yourself vulnerable to me."

Sam grabbed his skull, barking out a pained yell. As his legs buckled, Dean shoved him backward. He stumbled, falling away from the circle and landing near Bobby. Bobby moved in front of him, protectively blocking Belial's access.

"Give us Karen's soul and we'll release you," Dean said. "Keep attacking us and we'll just leave you here."

"No," Belial said. "I don't think you will."

The creature waved his arm. A wind blew colder than the freezing night and the flame of holy oil died at their feet. Dean cursed as he took a step backward.

Belial's eyes grew darker, the red swallowed by black. As he stepped across the edge of the devil's trap, a spark ignited sending the bitter smell of sulphur into the air as if someone lit a match. He stood in front of Dean.

"Hey," Bobby yelled out. He charged forward, using a handgun that looked more like a water pistol, he shot holy water over the monster.

Belial sizzled, smoke rising from his clothing as he flinched away from the attack. Bobby continued sending streams of demonic acid until Belial punched out his hand and sent Bobby flying across the hard packed ground.

"Feeble bee," Belial said, disdain dripping from his tone.

Dean jumped into the fray, drawing out an angel killing blade. Just as he darted forward, the creature knocked the knife out of his hand then backhanded Dean. The blade flew off in one direction while Dean took a sickening flight in the other.

He tumbled into a tree, pain flaring up along his side and shoulder. He ignored the injuries as he rolled back to his feet. He scanned the ground for the angel knife, knowing it was their only hope but didn't see it. When he looked for Belial, the monster was gliding towards Sam. Dean charged him, throwing his weight into the scarecrow frame, knocking him sideways.

Sam leaped on both of them, wrapping his arms around Belial and dragging him away from Dean. The creature flicked his hand to send Dean tumbling into one of the salvage cars. He hit hard against the body, feeling his frame shake with the impact. Rolling on to his side, he struggled to stand, his ears ringing and the tinny odor of blood filling his nose. He reached up, wincing when he found a gash just above his neck.

Unsteady, dizziness blurring his vision, Dean managed to get to his feet. As he steadied he looked in the direction of the battle, his legs already tensing to dive back in. He couldn't let Sam be possessed even if it meant failing Bobby.

As Cas gained solidity, Dean stopped. His friend arrived with friends of his own and several angels surrounded Belial and Sam who were locked in battle. Cas put his hand on Sam's shoulder and pulled him away. He shoved him away sending Sam stumbling towards Bobby.

"You may die here or you may return what you stole from Karen Singer. She is slated to enter our Father's kingdom and you have interfered long enough."

"You think you can stop me, brother?" Belial roared.

"Perhaps not alone but as you can see, I am not alone. Do as I ask and live. You will not touch this human," Cas pointed towards Sam. "You will not live in this realm but I will grant your life."

Belial straightened his narrow shoulders, the suit rustling around him. He lifted his hand slowly, palm up and a tiny, glowing light formed. Orange and red, it flickered and grew. The angels lifted their blades as one, arms extended, their shimmering weapons poised above their mutant brother. Belial squeezed his fist, stamping the light out with an angry grunt.

His hand rose again, this time a white light glowed, almost colorless. It floated slowly towards the trees, rising passed the tallest branches until it disappeared from view.

Dean looked from the sky towards Castiel and the other angels. Belial puffed his narrow chest.

"It's done," he said.

"Yes," Cas said. "She is saved. And so are you."

Belial nodded, his eyes fading back to red as his body shrank, turning gray as ash flaked off in the cold breeze. His image collapsed into a circle of dust and a plume of smoke.

Cas turned to his companions. "Thank you brothers and sisters. You may return to heaven."

In the midst of a sound like birds taking flight, the other angels disappeared.

Sam and Bobby joined Dean at the edge of the circle. Bobby's age showed in his reddened face and pronounced wrinkles. A bruise darkened one of his cheeks. Sam rubbed his shoulder but Dean didn't see any obvious injuries on his brother.

"Are all of you well?" Cas said as he faced them.

"We'll be fine," Dean said. "Thanks for the save."

"Thanks for getting Karen into heaven. It means more than you know," Bobby said, his voice cracking at the end. He cleared his throat. "Is she okay?"

"Heaven heals. In time, she'll be whole."

Dean squeezed Bobby's shoulder, lending him some support as Bobby worked to contain his emotions. His surrogate father trembled under his hand. When Bobby swiped at his eyes, Dean told him they needed to get some sand to cover the holy oil. Bobby grumbled and nodded and walked towards the garage.

Dean turned back to Cas to find the angel glaring at him.

"This was extremely dangerous. If Belial had possessed Sam, he would have been free to create havoc on earth."

"Bobby asked for our help," Dean said.

"And you didn't think you should contact me first."

"Hey," Sam said. "It's not like you've been around lately. Most of the time, you don't even bother to show up when we call."

Castiel's eyes narrowed as he squeezed his hands into fists. Dean thought he'd deny Sam's accusation but in the next breath, his face cleared.

"I understand. I have been busy. Please do not contact ancient celestial beings without praying to me first."

With that, Cas disappeared.

Dean looked at Sam. "Well, he sure told us," he said.

Sam smiled with that wooden, vacant expression that Dean hated. As the two of them waited for Bobby to return, Dean thought of something.

"Hey, you're not planning on going after Karen's sister, are you?"

"She's a witch," Sam said.

"Yeah, but, Bobby doesn't want her dead. He would've killed her already if he did."

"She's still a witch. Our job is killing monsters and we know there's one in the next town over."

"Sam, we're not killing Barbara. She's kind of like Bobby's family plus we don't know if she's done anything since she got her sister killed. We're leaving her alone."

Sam shook his head. "I don't understand."

"I know," Dean said, seriously. "That's why I'm here. This is one of those times when you have to trust me to know the right thing. Okay? No killing Bobby's sister-in-law."

"Fine," Sam said but Dean heard the disagreement in his tone.

Dean decided to keep a close eye on his brother until they left town again.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

**Set between "Season Seven, Time for a Wedding" and "How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters"**

Sam woke up just as Dean pulled into the dirt path that led to Rufus' abandoned cabin. Sleep crept in often as he recovered from Becky Rosen's demon tainted potion. The aftereffects of being poisoned into thinking she was his soulmate had left lingering doubts about reality. He still found traces of feelings that he knew didn't belong to him as well as pieces of memories that he didn't actually remember.

Dean assured him the effects would pass but between the Hell memories, hallucinations about Lucifer and the constant threat from Leviathan, Sam had nearly reached his limit.

The anniversary of defeating Belial and saving Karen Singer's soul gave them a good excuse to make a side trip to the cabin where they could regroup and recharge for a few days.

Bobby walked outside, greeting them as they pulled up.

"What's shaking, Bobby?" Dean said.

Sam just waved before traipsing to the back of the Impala to grab their gear.

"Made a stew for dinner," Bobby said. "It'll take the chill off. You boys hungry?"

"Have you met me?" Dean said.

Sam handed his brother a duffle then followed him across the porch and inside. They set their gear down. Sam glanced up when he felt eyes on him. Bobby stood a couple of feet away staring as he leaned at the back of the couch.

"You look like warmed over crap," Bobby said.

Sam narrowed his eyes as he frowned. "Good to see you too," he said.

"Have you slept in the last week?"

"All I do is sleep. Batteries are taking some time to recharge."

Bobby scowled. "That crazy groupie really did a number on you, huh?"

"The demon slash witch did the real damage. Becky is mostly just guilty of being naïve."

"And desperate," Dean said.

Sam moved closer to the fire burning at the back of the cabin. The flames dancing inside the fireplace provided the only warmth and it felt good on his skin.

Bobby walked towards the small, wood table where he had set bowls out near a loaf of bread. The small propane stove held a large, metal pot. Bobby used a ladle to start filling the bowls. He handed them one at a time to Dean who set them out. Sam regretfully abandoned the fire to grab three beers out of the small refrigerator.

The three of them settled at the table. The aroma of the hearty stew started to chase away the cold. As Sam dug in, he glanced at his family. Bobby kept his hat on and blew on the bowl to cool it before starting to eat. Dean tucked in with his head down and blowing on each spoonful before shoveling the stew into his mouth. Sam watched them for a moment until his stomach growled and he took some bread from the bag, slathered it with butter and took a bite.

Several minutes passed with just the sounds of spoons and chewing. Then Bobby picked up his bottle of beer and held it out.

"A year ago, we did the impossible. Here's to us," he said.

"We do the impossible all the time," Dean said. "To us."

Bobby and Dean clinked bottles then Sam clinked with them. No one mentioned Castiel or his contribution to sending Belial away, and saving Karen Singer. His betrayal with Crowley and of bringing the Leviathan out of Purgatory still confused the grief they all felt by his death. Talking about him remained too painful. So Sam chose not to think about it. He focused on the future instead. Being surrounded by his family gave him confidence that as long as the three of them had each other, they'd continue kicking "the impossible's" ass.


End file.
